


pour some sugar on me

by higgsburied



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, ahhh it's been so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/higgsburied/pseuds/higgsburied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L is a rich kid who frequents the bakery Light works in. Aizawa's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pour some sugar on me

He hated his cocky arrogance the most. He could, of course, say the same about the young man he drove around, but he’d gotten used to L’s (as the awkward but brilliant young twenty-something insisted he go by now) eccentricities. But this boy at the bakery - he was really something else. He flirted with the girls under guise of customer service and was pleasant enough with all the other men. But when it came to Aizawa, he took this oddly mocking tone. These trips were, by far, the worst part of his day. The absolute bane of his existence.

Not that chauffeuring a rich family was ever exactly easy. They were demanding and frequently condescending - often without even meaning to be, although he had his doubts about ‘Mello,’ who seemed to fluctuate between old-school communism and snobbery. Driving him was like having a broken, loaded pistol in his hand that might go off or backfire with the slightest provocation. Roger, too, could be a pain; he was always grumpy and complaining, prompting Aizawa to wonder on more than one occasion why he and his life partner, Watari, had bothered adopting children in the first place. But he’d prefer driving anyone in the house over Mello and in fact usually avoided the teen ever since he and his cigarette-smoking friend took the car for a joy ride, leaving ashes in the cup holders and the seats a little singed for some reason. He’d also thought there was a dent from a bullet, but it was gone by the time he’d made an appointment with a body shop. He didn’t want to ask where it came from, he was just silently and sheepishly grateful they’d taken the car instead of asking for a ride.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. Watari was perfectly lovely, albeit a bit odd. He had many inventions for which Aizawa played guinea pig, but nothing bad had come of them yet. And he paid well - very, very well. His generosity knew no bounds, giving Aizawa a double raise when he asked for an early paycheck for his daughter’s birthday. 

“Can I help you?” He’d been staring off into space, thinking over the last year, and hadn’t realized he was now at the head of the line.

He sighed, agitated. Was this kid working here every day, or did L just pick his work days specifically to come in and watch Aizawa be tortured? “Yeah, yeah.” More glares. Probably because he hadn’t given the proper yes. “I’ll have -”

“it’s okay, Aizawa.” A mess of black hair, all tangles, moved to stand beside him. “I can order for myself.” He stared at his small master in shock. He’d taken the thumb out of his mouth and appeared to be making an effort to stand up straight.

What alternate universe have I wandered into? “Ah, okay,” Aizawa said awkwardly. He went to take a seat at the table L had just been occupying, befuddled by the sudden change in character. He watched carefully, wondering what the young man was planing. He could be devious, sometimes, with a dry and sarcastic wit. Perhaps he’d be telling the cashier off for being ru-

He wasn’t sure how it had happened or what even sparked it, but L had pushed up on the counter and pressed his lips against the cashier’s. The other man was clearly startled, eyes wide. Aizawa understood the feeling, going a little slackjawed himself. L had never shown much interest in other people, talking to his family as little as possible. When Aizawa heard him speak, it was almost always to himself. He didn’t even seem to have any friends…

Aizawa watched as L pressed some money down onto the table, approaching the table with an unsuppressed smirk on his face. “You look awfully pleased with yourself,” Aizawa commented before he could stop himself.

“I am,” L said, back hunched over and hand stuck in his pockets. “That went rather better than expected.” He licked his lips, pressing his thumb back into his mouth. “I expect we’ll be asked to leave soon. I doubt I’ll be getting my cake.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a plate was dropped in front of him. It was the cashier, the same one L had just kissed, face bright red in what must have been embarrassment. 

L didn’t have the decency to look ashamed, smiling strangely around his thumb. The other young man huffed, avoiding his eyes. “Light,” he said harshly. “If you’re going to go around kissing random guys in coffee shops, you should at least know their names.”

He - Light - stormed off, casting a quick glare back at the table as he went. 

L smiled broadly. It looked weird on him, so different from the crooked looks Aizawa was used to seeing from the rearview mirror. He stuck a fork in the cake, shoving a large chunk in his mouth. Mouth full, he said, “I think he likes me.”


End file.
